Novels 02 Red Dust (3 page)

Chapter 4

The next few weeks were busy ones for Gemma. No time for trips to town or anything but work. Her ad had garnered some responses, and she had interviewed a couple of blokes, but neither of them had really stood out. She had to get someone, so against her better judgement she'd hired Jack Marshall, a man in his mid-thirties who had spent most of his life on stations in the north of Australia. A tall man with a thick bushy beard and a cracked front tooth that showed when he smiled. He had arrived in a white Holden ute with a bad-taste picture of a naked blonde woman on the rear window. He seemed quite surly but his references from previous employers had been impeccable. So far he'd worked hard and there hadn't been any trouble, which was just as well – while Bulla and Garry lived away from the main house, on another part of the station, Jack had moved into the shearers' quarters near the shearing shed, within a few hundred metres of the house.

The shearers' quarters had seemed the obvious place for him to move into since there weren't any spare rooms at Bulla and Garry's house. The shearers' quarters had eight rooms that were used only during shearing time. Gemma was also short of a work ute for him so she had asked Garry to fix up an old Yamaha bike that had been forgotten in the depths of the shed.

On the last day in June, Gemma received a phone call from Ned Jones, a partner in Hawkins and Jones Stock Agents and Farm Merchandise. Whenever he was in the area he'd called to let them know and they had got a few mobs in to count. It had taken some weeks and a lot of Ned's time, but he was happy to help out. A middle-aged man with a big beer belly, big hat and a red face from being outside all day, he was quick with a joke and a laugh. Gemma thought him the epitome of the old-style stock agent.

When Ned pulled up at the cattle yards, he had someone with him in the car. Gemma went over to greet them.

'Hi, Ned, how are you going today?'

'Hi, Gemma, how are ya? I'm good.' Heaving himself out of the car, he motioned with a calloused hand to the passenger side. 'Gemma, this young bloke is Ben Daylee. He's come on board with us as a new stocky. Ben Daylee, Gemma Sinclair.'

Gemma looked over as the 'young bloke' got out of the car. Expecting to see a nineteen- or twentyyear-old, she was surprised to see he was about her age. Looking at him she drew in a breath, and then blushed, hoping no one had noticed. He was gorgeous.

She held out her hand. 'Pleased to meet you. Do you know what you're letting yourself in for, hanging around with this one?' She gestured to Ned.

Ben smiled. Perfect teeth. Was there anything not perfect? wondered Gemma.

'Sure, but does Ned know what
he's
in for? I could probably teach him a thing or two!'

'I bet you could,' said Gemma. 'Now about these cattle . . .' She turned and headed toward the yards, Ned and Ben close behind.

'These are beautiful beasts,' said Ben appreciatively as they gazed at the mob.

'Thank you. Adam and I bought these from my dad, who breeds Angus cattle. Have you had a lot to do with cattle?'

'I'm from a cattle background. My parents have about four thousand acres right down south. They breed Angus as well, actually.'

'Oh, what bloodlines are they on?' Gemma asked, more to test his knowledge than out of genuine interest. So many new blokes thought they understood the stock industry when really they were very green.

'Well, there are three different families essentially. We mainly do artificial insemination and embryo transfer work with sires from the US.' Ben talked knowledgeably about genetics and Gemma listened intently; he really did know his cattle.

'I do a bit of AI for Dad,' she told him. 'I did a course a few years ago so that we could do it ourselves, but we – I – don't use it here since I don't breed my own bulls. I like to buy them in from registered studs. Dad usually, but others as well to keep the bloodlines fairly separate.'

'Right,' Ned broke in, 'these cattle need counting.'

They ran all the cattle through the gates, with both Ben and Ned counting. Bulla and Jack kept the cattle coming through, while Garry brought more mobs in from different paddocks. After they had finished, Ned, Ben and Gemma went back to the homestead for a coffee, while Garry, Bulla and Jack returned the cattle to their paddocks.

Ned busily added up numbers from counts done in the weeks before and laid them all out on the table for Gemma to go through when she sat down.

'Now, Gemma, these figures don't square up with what Adam had recorded. Most of the sheep numbers are up; some mobs by five hundred, but most only a hundred and fifty or so. The cattle numbers are pretty much on track. Except the steers. There are five hundred and seventy-three steers when usually you would sell around one thousand in a year. You've got the three hundred contracted to the feedlotters and then you usually put up about seven hundred in the January sales. You're down by four hundred-odd steers.'

Gemma let the teaspoon she was holding fall to the table with a clatter. 'Down four hundred? What contract? Adam didn't tell me about a contract!'

'The contract he's signed for the last three years. You know, with the feedlotters on the other side of town.'

'Oh,' said Gemma in confusion, racking her brains. Contract? Last three years? 'I must have forgotten,' she stammered. 'Um, look, I'm not sure, Ned – how many did you say were contracted?'

'Three hundred.'

Gemma shook her head, puzzled.

'Did you definitely get all the mobs in?' asked Ned.

'I'm pretty sure we did. I've been to every paddock on Billbinya in the last two weeks, and unless the guys made a mistake bringing in the cattle I don't see how we could have missed them.' She thought for a minute. 'Maybe he had something in mind with Dad.' Even as she said it she felt herself relax. That must be it. 'I'll give him a call and see what he says. When was the contract for?'

'End of October.'

'Right, no worries.' Gemma was suddenly professional again. 'I'll talk to Dad tonight and give you a call.'

'Okay. Well . . .' Ned pushed back his chair. 'We have to head off – we're due over at the Carters in about a half-hour. Got to finish introducing Ben around to all his new clients.'

They rose from the kitchen table. Ben collected the cups and carried them over to the sink.

Walking them to the car, Gemma asked: 'So, Ben, are you my new stock agent?'

'I'm not sure; that's up to Ned. But I certainly hope so.'

Ned laughed and clapped Ben on the shoulder. 'He thinks he can take on the world. Doesn't realise that if he takes on all my clients he'll be as burnt out as I am! That's the reason me and Bert hired him – so we could finally manage to have some time off! Oh yeah, that reminds me, Gemma – I'm taking some holidays in about three weeks. Taking the missus up to the Alice for a fortnight. Ben will be filling in for me while I'm gone.'

'That sounds wonderful, Ned! I can't remember you ever taking a holiday and I've known you just about my whole life.' Gemma was genuinely pleased.

'Yeah, well Rose's wanted to go up there for a while and now that young Ben's here we think that it's the perfect opportunity.'

Opening the car door, he leaned over and squeezed Gemma's shoulder. 'Look after yourself, girl.'

'You too.'

Ben handed Gemma his card. 'You can reach me any time,' he said, and shook her hand. 'Seeya later.'

As soon as they left, Gemma hopped in the Toyota to have a drive around Billbinya. News of the contract had come as a nasty surprise, but by hell she was going to get to the bottom of it. And find these three hundred cattle she would need if she were to fulfil the agreement.

Ned and Ben turned out of the driveway and onto the single-lane bitumen road.

'Phew,' said Ben, leaning back in his seat. 'She's amazing.'

Ned glanced across at him. 'Now don't you go getting any ideas, boy,' he said sternly. 'She's been through enough in the last year or so. You leave her well alone.'

'Mate, I haven't got any
ideas,
but she's still amazing.' He shook his head. 'She had no idea about that contract,' he said after a pause.

Ned rubbed his face tiredly. 'I know.'

'What do we do about that?' asked Ben. 'Is it something we should warn the feedlotters about?'

'Well, let's just see what she comes back with tonight. Sinny was a shifty bugger at times and might not have told her. He might've forgotten or just thought she didn't need to know.'

'Sinny? Is that what they used to call Adam?'

'Yep.'

'Is it really possible that he'd spoken to her father about the contract?'

'I sincerely doubt it, but you never know.'

'Have you heard the rumours about stock stealing?'

Ned looked over at Ben with an annoyed expression on his face. 'Yes I have, Ben,' he replied in a clipped tone. 'But no one has reported anything to the cops and I can tell you that no one from Billbinya would be involved. No one around this area has reported missing stock – it's all been over the west side of town – so just leave it, will you?'

Ben stared silently out the window at the passing country, but his vision was full of Gemma's pretty face.

Chapter 5

After driving around the whole of Billbinya and consulting Ned's counts, Gemma was sure that all the stock on the property had been counted. Heading home, she called Bulla on the two-way and organised to meet him and Garry at the homestead for a beer after work. She wanted to pick their brains.

She was in the office when they pulled up in one of the station's old utes. 'How goes it, guys?' she asked, walking out to greet them.

'Goes well,' Bulla replied. 'We got that mob of a thousand ewes and shifted them closer to the yards for Millsy and his crew to lamb mark next Monday.'

'Great. Want a beer?'

'Thanks,' they said in unison.

She led them to the kitchen and got them a beer each from the fridge, pouring a rum and Coke for herself. They sat down at the table and Gemma looked at the two men seriously.

'So what do you reckon the deal is with these stock numbers? They've got me buggered,' she said.

Garry and Bulla had worked for Adam's family for many years before he'd taken over the farm from his parents. When Adam and Gemma had married, she'd earned their respect and loyalty by working as hard as they did and taking pride in her work. Neither had had any hesitation in staying on with Gemma as boss after Adam had died; they knew she'd be as good a boss as Adam had been, if not better.

'Well, Gem,' said Bulla, 'I'm blowed if I know what's going on. Sinny used to know what was going on with every mob, sheep or cattle, but I reckon for the last eight or nine months before the accident he spent so much time going off in that plane of his, that maybe he lost track of what was going on.'

'Did either of you know about a contract for three hundred steers to go to the feedlotters at the end of October?'

Bulla and Garry looked at each other, puzzled, and each took another swig of beer without realising they were mirror ing each other's actions. Gemma laughed to herself. They were so similar, but she guessed they had lived and worked together for so long that it was bound to happen.

'I dunno nothing about any contract for the feedlotters,' said Garry. 'Don't remember him ever signing a forward supply contract. Do you, Bull?'

'Nah, don't reckon I do.'

'Really?' said Gemma, surprised. 'Ned said today that he'd done it for the last three years.'

'No way,' said Bulla strongly. 'Not while we've been here, and definitely not in the last three years. We'd remember 'cos we would've had to get them in, and Sinny would've taken us out to look at them in the feedlot. Ya know how he liked to follow the stock all the way through to the abattoirs. Ned must have it wrong.'

Gemma looked thoughtful. 'Yeah, that's a good point. He always took you guys or me with him to look at the stock. Don't know why I didn't think of that.' She took a sip of her rum and Coke. 'Do you think he was doing something with Dad?'

'Nah, mate,' Bulla replied without hesitation. 'Don't reckon that would be a goer. No offence to ya old man, but it's not like Sinny and Jake were good mates.'

Gemma nodded. Adam hadn't always seen eye to eye with her dad, but that was okay; she didn't see eye to eye with his folks at times either. Mostly they got along well, although Gemma sometimes felt that his parents hadn't really under stood Adam and the pressures that they placed on him.

Gemma finally smiled and said, 'Well, I reckon we're organised for a while. The stock and little bit of crop that we have are looking good and we're all organised for lamb marking next week. What are you two up to for the weekend?'

'Reckon we'll probably go to the pub, what do ya think, Gazza?'

'Yeah, think that's where we'll end up. Gotta go to town on Sat'dy mornin' to get some supplies, so I reckon we'll probably pass through the pub.'

'Sounds like a good plan. Well, I guess I'll see you both in the morning.'

The pair got up from their chairs, downing the last of their beers as they went. Bulla stopped abruptly before he got to the door.

'Gem, I'm not really keen on that Jack. Make sure you watch out for yourself. Make sure you lock ya doors at night, okay?'

'Why's that, Bulla? Are you being overprotective?' She smiled at him affectionately.

'Nah, I've got me reasons. Just you be careful, hear me?' he reiterated gruffly.

'I'm always careful, Bull,' Gemma said gently. 'See you tomorrow.'

'Seeya,' they echoed.

After a dinner of eggs on toast – not that she would ever confess to Jess how close to the mark she had been! – Gemma took a deep breath and picked up the phone.

'Hello, Sarah speaking,' her mother's voice carolled.

'Hi, Mum, it's me.'

'Hello, darling. How are you?'

'Pretty good. What's happening over there?'

'Oh you know, the usual. Your father's pretty busy with calving. He's gone to bed early tonight actually – he's feeling a bit poorly. And I had a phone call from Leisha today. She and the children are fine – and guess what?'

'What?' It had been a couple of weeks since Gemma had spoken to her sister.

'Zac has been offered a job in Canberra. Higherpaying than where he is now. They'll be shifting sometime in the next month or so. It'll be such a great move for them. Much colder than Melbourne, of course, but a wonderful opportunity and plenty of good schools for Zoë and Kate. And here's the best bit – oh, that's right, I can't tell you that yet. Leisha wants to tell you herself. Anyway, how are things going over there? Are you eating properly? You've lost so much weight. I wish you would come over here more often for meals.'

Gemma raised her eyes heavenwards. 'I'm fine, Mum. It's great – about Leisha, being pregnant again, I mean.' Gemma waited for the reaction.

'Oh, has she rung you already? Isn't it exciting?'

'No, Mum, she hasn't rung – I was just guessing.'

'Oh, Gemma, you do get me every time. Now don't you go telling your sister I told you. I didn't really tell you, anyway. Now I must go, your father is calling me. The poor darling, he was feeling so awful that I had to send him to bed. Have a lovely night. Bye!'

'Bye, Mum,' Gemma put down the phone and shook her head, smiling. She sent an email to Ned explaining that she hadn't spoken to her father yet, then she had a shower, jumped into bed and picked up the book she was reading . . .

Jack took another swig from his bottle of rum and gazed through the window of the shearers' quarters. A short time later he threw on some clothes and grabbed his torch. Opening his door quietly he listened. Not a sound – maybe tonight was a good bet to check out the widow's house. He made his way softly across the yard, talking quietly to the dogs who growled in return. Looking around he paused and listened again. Nothing. His hand rested on the doorknob, then Jack turned it slowly. The dogs started to bark excitedly. He abruptly stopped and let go of the knob, cursing, and made his way quietly back to the shearers' quarters. Lighting another cigarette he lay back thinking about how he could get into the house and have a look around. His mobile phone beeped with a text message.